


I Tell Myself I'm Not In Love, But One More Time Is Not Enough

by blingblingis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 06:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12699612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blingblingis/pseuds/blingblingis
Summary: A request from my tumblr:Could i get a minific of mccree realizing that he's in love with his fuckbuddy? Like, there they are, mid-fuckening, and it suddenly clicked that the reason he almost exclusively has sex with them is because he wants to hear them moaning HIS name, wants to know that HE'S the one making them feel so good





	I Tell Myself I'm Not In Love, But One More Time Is Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my imagines blog [here!](https://moreheroimagines.tumblr.com/)

Oh shit. He’s in love.

This was not the time or place to be having personal revelations. Not of this kind. 

Jesse McCree was currently buried to the hilt inside you, his hips never stopping their motion even when his mind came to a screeching halt. Fuck, you’re beautiful, he thinks, changing the angle of his hips to hit that perfect sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.

Of course he found you attractive. That’s how this whole thing started anyway. The attraction was mutual and it wasn’t long before the two of you were both naked, writhing on top of the sheets. If McCree was being honest with himself, it was some of the best sex he’s ever had. Initially that’s why he told himself he kept coming back to you.

You had both decided early on that there were no feelings involved, just desire. And he had been just fine with that. It was simple and it was easy. One of you said you were horny and that was it, you fucked and it was no big deal.

But it’s a fucking massive deal now. Because he can’t take his eyes off of you. The way your brow furrows when the pleasure becomes almost too much. The way your back arches so beautifully. The way your mouth opens but no sounds come out. Or they do and it’s those lovely little gasps and breathy sighs and he’s lost. Drowning in every reaction you give him so freely.

“Jesse...” you moan, your head tilting back to expose your throat. And it’s a temptation he cannot resist. Without conscious decision he finds his lips there, tasting the salt on your skin and leaving a bright crimson mark blooming in his wake. It’s satisfying, seeing your skin littered with little bruises such as these in all varying stages of healing.

The problem is it shouldn’t be so damn satisfying. You’re not his and he’s not yours. He has no right to take pleasure in marking you this way. But he wants to. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red welts that he knows he will feel tomorrow. He revels in it. He shouldn’t.

Your hands slide down farther until you grip his ass and grin up at him, “Come on, cowboy, put some power behind it.” you urge him on, throwing your head back and laughing as you squeeze his ass. Fuck. He’s more than happy to oblige, shifting the weight on his arms so he can piston into you harder, faster. Your laugh turns to a ragged moan that has his cock throbbing with need inside of you.

“Fuck, yes, just like that.” you whine, your eyes fluttering shut as you near your peak. He’s not far off either, the look of complete rapture on your face quickly pushing him to his end. You finish first, clenching around him and gasping his name, praise falling from your lips so easily.

He swears under his breath as his thrusts become less coordinated, his hips stuttering before he releases inside you, your sweet voice cooing to him all the while. You both take long moments to recuperate and catch your breath. Slowly, he rolls off of you, sitting on the edge of the bed and dropping his head into his hands.

What’s wrong with him? Why does he fuck up every time something good happens to him? You had both decided this wouldn’t involve feelings, did you not? And yet here he is, falling for you anyway. He curses himself for being a fool, for breaking the rules of your deal. But he can’t help it. The more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes.

His mind whirs, thoughts and memories bombarding him all at once, unbidden. He remembers the first time he heard you laugh, the way it lit up your face and made your eyes crinkle at the corners. He remembers hearing you sigh contentedly, basking in the afterglow the first time the two of you had sex. He thinks about how you’re his best friend, someone he could tell anything to. Someone he could vent to, joke around with, and someone he could cry with. He thinks about the way he feels so damn comfortable around you. You feel like home. And that’s something he’s only briefly tasted. But he wants more.

And that’s the problem. 

You take notice of how unusually quiet he is and glance over at him in curiosity. Curiosity swiftly turns to worry as you see him looking like he might break at any moment. “Hey, hey, Jesse, look at me.” you call to him softly, crawling over to him on your hands and knees and tilting his face up to yours. Both of you are as naked as the day you were born, sweat and sex still clinging to your skin, but this is far more important. You furrow your brow when he refuses to meet your eyes despite having his head facing you. “Talk to me, Jesse, we’re friends, right? That’s what friends are for.” you smile at him, hoping to ease his troubles.

Unfortunately his frown deepens and he lowers his gaze. “I think...I think we should stop this.” he mumbles, staring at his hands intently. If he looks up at you now he’ll break, tell you he loves you and that just isn’t fair. He’s the one who caught these feelings, he can’t pressure you into something more. No, better to end it, he decides.

You hesitate, your fingers twitching on his chin, “Stop what?” you ask, the room suddenly feeling chillier, your high from your orgasm already forgotten.

He gulps, his throat suddenly feeling dry, “This...this carryin’ on we’ve been doin’. It ain’t right.” he says, almost angrily, turning his head from you and shaking it like he can’t believe what he’s saying. He’s not angry with you, but himself, kicking himself for falling in love with you, kicking himself for agreeing not to.

You know you can’t. He stands suddenly and starts pacing. You bring yourself up onto your knees, sitting on them as you watch him. “What’s not right about it, Jesse? We’re both adults, we’re having fun. There’s nothing wrong with that.” you try to placate him, even though your heart is beating out of your chest now, terrified that this will be the end.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. He couldn’t do this. Even now you were trying to be patient with him, it would be easier if you hated him. Eventually he sighs, his pacing stopping and his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, darlin’. You told me this couldn’t involve feelings and I went ahead and fell in love with you anyway.” he muttered, self-deprecatingly, still looking anywhere but at you.

Your breath caught in your lungs and you found yourself on your feet before you could even stop yourself. You walked straight up to him and cupped his face in your hands. “Jesse McCree. You...” for once, words failed you. He looked at you with nervousness and a tiny spark of hope in his eyes. A laugh bubbled from your lips and you leaned your forehead against his shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” he bristled, his body stiffening slightly. A defense mechanism, you reasoned. But he had no need for it now.

You lift your head and shake it at the same time. “If I recall correctly, I said there were no feelings involved. I never said no feelings could ever be involved.” it was hard to keep the laughter from your voice, a smile lighting up your face. You couldn’t believe he felt the same way for you as you did for him. You had known you loved him for months, but you were terrified of losing him if you admitted it.

You watched as emotions flitted across his face in quick succession: surprise, confusion, and finally joy. “You mean...” he trailed off, his hands almost instinctively coming up to cup your face.

Laughing again you looped your arms around his neck with a nod, “Yes, Jesse.” you grinned up at him, showing him everything you felt for him, baring your soul to him. “I love you too.” you bit your lip to hide your smile and giggled at the unbridled joy dancing in his eyes, the brightness of his smile.

He kissed the laughter on your lips, his own joining soon after. Pressing your foreheads together he breathed you in. Everything was the same. And yet everything felt so different.


End file.
